Fear of Pillows
by Random Stuff About Stuff
Summary: Lord Voldemort wasn't the worst fear of all the wizards. The true enemy, the true terror, is much, much worse... Totally random. Rather plotless as well.


_**SPOILERS! IF YOU HAVEN'T READ THE HALF-BLOOD PRINCE (OR ANY OF THE OTHER BOOKS), READ NO FURTHER! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!**_

Disclaimer: If you tell me you actually thought I owned this, I will scream. Nothing is mine. sniffles.

A/N Don't blame me if this makes no sense whatsoever. I am a very random person. Bwahahahahahaha! By the way, all the French in here is not guaranteed to be correct, I haven't tried to speak it in almost three years, so don't kill me if I'm wrong about this. Also, if there really is an Evil Pillow Series, I apologize to the writer, I don't own that either. But as far as I know, there is no such series.

"_Not so brave at night, are you?"_

"_This is night, Diddykins. That's what we call it when it gets all dark like this."_

"_I mean when you're in bed!"_

"_What, am I supposed to be afraid of pillows, or something?"_

-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix.

Oh, _sure_ they tell you Muggles that a wizard's greatest fear is Lord Voldemort. Did you know mort is French for dead? Just thought I'd add that little fact in there.

Actually, Lord Voldemort wasn't all _that_ bad. He was just trying to defeat the wizards' greatest enemy his own way. The Ministry thought his way was too violent, so they captured a Muggle author, and made her write a book about how terrible he was.

So what was it that the wizards were fighting in reality? Pillows. _Evil_ pillows.

I know, it seems wimpy. But hey, evil pillows are _mean_! Okay, that was pretty obvious. Anyway, here's a more truthful series for you to read, if you want the truth. The Evil Pillows Series.

The Sorcerer's Pillows

The Chamber of Pillows

The Pillows in Azkaban

The Pillows on Fire

The Order of the Pillows

The Prince's Half-Pillow

Anyway, this is what's happening now that's put me in mind of the evil pillows. Dumbledore's funeral has just ended, and Ron and I are packing to head home, when we hear a scream.

"Aaaahhh!" screamed the screaming person who was screaming. (Sorry about that, I just wanted to get the point across that someone was screaming. Did you get it?)

Ron and I looked at each other, then hurried down to the common room, where the screaming was coming from.

"Aaaahhh!" repeated the screaming person who was screaming.

"Why were you screaming, screaming person who was screaming?" asked Ron.'

"Because Lavender saw a picture of your _face_ and her eyes fell out from looking at your ugliness," said Hermione sarcastically.

"Oh. Sorry, Lavender," said Ron.

"That wasn't _it,_you moron!" exclaimed Hermione. "I was _being_ sarcastic."

"Then why didn't you say so?" asked Ron.

"Well, what did you expect me to say? Lavender saw a picture of your face and her eyes fell out from looking at your ugliness, I am saying sarcastically?"

"Yes. But that's not what you said."

"Huh?"

"The first time, you said 'Lavender saw a picture of your _face_' and the second time you said, 'Lavender saw a picture of your face.'"

"What's the difference."

"You emphasized it the first time and not the second," I explained.

"Oh, sure! Side with Ron!"

"Well, he is a boy."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"I dunno."

"You're an idiot, Harry."

"Yes I am," I answered. "What's the _real_ reason you screamed."

"I screamed because…"

"Hang on."

"What?"

"Hang on. I'm thinking."

Hermione rolled her eyes, but waited until I was done thinking. Then I revealed my discovery to the world!

"I just agreed with you."

"Huh?"

"I just agreed with you when you said I was an idiot. You said, 'you're an idiot, Harry,' and I said, 'yes I am.'"

"That makes you doubly an idiot," said Hermione impatiently. "Don't you want to know why I screamed?"

"If it's really so important to you," I sighed.

"The pillows are attacking."

"What?"

"The pillows are attacking. That's why Lavender's eyes fell out."

"Do they have some new weapon?" asked Ron nervously.

"Yeah. A picture of you."

"Cut it with the sarcasm already," I snapped.

"I wasn't being sarcastic."

"You weren't?"

"Man, you're an idiot, Harry. The pillows could always do that."

Then the pillows came up and killed her. I looked around and saw that everyone in the room was already dead. Wonder why I didn't notice that earlier...

Ron and I were the last ones left. We stood back to back, facing the pillows surrounding us.

"Ron," I said.

"Yeah?"

"There's something I've always wanted to tell you."

"What?"

"You look like a fish."

"_What!_"

"What? You do!"

"Yeah, well, you look like a baboon."

"I _am_ a baboon."

"Oh. Well, in that case, you look like a human."

"I _am_ a human."

"You're weird, Tom."

"I'm Harry."

"This is totally random."

"Yes it is."

"I think I'll go down to the kitchen and steal some chocolate now."

"Me too."

So we tried to leave the invaded common room. And the pillows killed us both. Ron died looking like a fish, and I died still not being Tom.


End file.
